


shifted priorities

by foundCarcosa



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundCarcosa/pseuds/foundCarcosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early-morning shenanigans in the Dawnstar Sanctuary, at the expense of breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shifted priorities

Drustan doesn’t beg for anything, especially not sex, but he wakes up from a dream-filled slumber rock-hard and almost drooling, and if that means he’s got to roll out of bed and chase Nazir down, _well_. He’s never been one for self-denial.

Dawnstar Sanctuary’s still sleeping, mostly — the nocturnal residents are just bedding down, and the rest are either soaking up their last hour of sleep or already out and about in the world above. It’s not hard to find the other Redguard, who’s attending to a simmering pot with one thumb lazily hooked into the waistband of his trousers, the other four fingers resting on his crotch.

Drustan, following the curve of Nazir’s spine with his sleepy eyes and thinking about pressing his cock up against that ass, licks his lips and steps forward.

"Thought you were asleep," Nazir comments without surprise, his voice a drawling rumble that vibrates through his torso and straight into Drustan’s as he slides his arms around Nazir from behind, covering Nazir’s hand with his own and pressing it into his groin. Nazir grunts, cupping himself, a grin sneaking over his features.

"Come on," Drustan whispers, lips moving against the man’s bare shoulder. "Get back in bed. Come _on.”_

"Can’t you see I’m cooking, D? Surely you’ll be wanting breakfast." The casual, unhurried tone of Nazir’s voice drives Drustan up a wall, and he grinds his hips against Nazir’s ass as if driving home a point. The point that he _wants_ to be driving his point home, right now, if Nazir would only catch his damn drift.

"I want you for breakfast. Don’t make me ask again, damn you." Nazir snorts, grabs Drustan’s hands, turns around so they’re facing each other. They’re of a height, and their bodies are perfectly flush as Nazir cups Drustan’s chin, squeezes a little, presses his lips hard against Drustan’s. The kiss lingers, drugging and sweet, Nazir’s body shifting just slightly against his in a way that made jolts of hot sensation dart up his spine.

"You comin’?" Drustan whispers, a groan building in his chest that he doesn’t want to give Nazir, not yet, not until he knows Nazir’s going to give him what _he_ wants.

"Oh, I will be," Nazir promises, turning Drustan around and walking him back to the bedroom.

{ Llovyn steps into the Sanctuary’s common room to the acrid smell of burning… _something._ The actual nature of the food is lost, now.

"What in the Void—" He covers his nose and mouth with a hand, coughing. _"Nazir!”_

"Sorry, Listener," the Redguard drawls, sauntering back into the common room, coming from his bedchamber, presumably — his hair is in disarray and his trousers hang irreverently off his narrow hips. "I’m an assassin, not a fucking cook." }


End file.
